


Something Permanent

by onekisstotakewithme



Category: MASH (TV)
Genre: Ace!Charles Emerson Winchester III, Engagement, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Period-Atypical Happiness (per some people), Period-Typical Happiness (per me), Please enjoy this break from reality, Quarantine Dopamine Machine (TM)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:28:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24175108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onekisstotakewithme/pseuds/onekisstotakewithme
Summary: Charles has a question for Hawkeye.
Relationships: Benjamin Franklin "Hawkeye" Pierce/Charles Emerson Winchester III
Comments: 9
Kudos: 47





	Something Permanent

**Author's Note:**

  * For [blue_raven](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blue_raven/gifts), [daylight_angel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/daylight_angel/gifts).



**March 1953**

By the time Honoria is home to pick up her mail, the moon is shining over Boston, and her fingers still smell like spilled wine- the remains of a very good vintage she'd tossed in the face of a potential husband her parents had sent her out with. 

She's already thinking of Charles as she carries the assorted letters upstairs, wondering how she can put the best spin on things (the worst was Francisco, the Italian who hadn't wanted to marry her anymore than she did him and for all the same reasons) when she writes him next.

And it's like she's conjured him up in her mind, because though the letter with his handwriting on it is grubby and worn by travel, it's the fine material she always associates with his stationery. 

She kicks off her shoes, and flops onto the sofa with the letter, already ripping it open. 

"My dearest sister," it begins, and she closes her eyes for a second, wishing he was here with her. 

> _My dearest sister,_
> 
> _It is spring here in Korea, though you would not be able to tell from the dip in the thermometer this week. I trust that it is spring back home as well, if all things are proceeding as they should (Korea feels frozen in time, half a century back at the very least). Please be sure and fill the house with fresh flowers at every possible opportunity, and think of me when you do._
> 
> _Much as I would like to maintain the facade that I am only writing to inquire about your wellbeing, I am writing as well to ask a favour of you. No doubt you will remember that before I left Boston, I entrusted my Harvard class ring to you, with the assurance that I would not need it in this cesspit (and my arrival here confirmed that in my mind). However, circumstances have changed and I do find myself in need of it. Though it may not be a family heirloom like Grandmama's engagement ring, the status symbol this ring provides will improve my living conditions immensely in ways it would take much too long to explain. Please forgive me for robbing you of its sentimental value, but all will become clear in time._
> 
> _Please take care of yourself, Norie, and be careful around Mother and Father- they have plans for you, whether or not you agree with them, and as I am not there to distract them, I live in fear for you. Please say hello to Dot for me, and give her my love._
> 
> _Your loving brother,_
> 
> _Charlie._

She has to read the letter three times before what it means really sinks in. 

"Status s-symbol," she murmurs with a snort, running a finger down the page, trying not to smudge the long-dried ink. "Oh Charlie, you _d-didn't."_

And then she has to hold the letter to her chest, grinning so hard that it makes her cheeks hurt.

The ring is sitting in her jewelry box, alongside the pearls she wasn't supposed to inherit but that Charles had rather deviously acquired for her anyway, and the thought that he has _need_ of it now...

"Damn," she murmurs, reading the letter a fourth time. "Damn it, Charlie, w-who is it? A nurse, a d-doctor, who?"

The room is silent save for the ticking of the clock, and as she sits there grinning, she's already reaching for a pen and paper and composing an answer to his letter, thrilled and a little bit terrified of what this could all mean. 

> _Charlie-_
> 
> _Are you sure you don't want Grandmama's engagement ring? I would think that would be much more comforting than a bit of tin with your college name on it. And I'd be perfectly happy to steal it for you, just say the word._
> 
> _Yours always,_
> 
> _Norie._
> 
> _PS- of course I'll send the ring, you silly fool. And good luck._

And then she puts the letter down, humming to herself.

She’s halfway to the freezer for a bottle of beer and her hidden carton of ice cream (her and Charles’s favourite flavour) when she realizes that the song she’s humming is the wedding march. 

* * *

**April 1953**

"Charles?"

Charles nearly jumps out of his skin, pressing a hand to his chest as he turns to see Hunnicutt standing over him, eyebrows raised in confusion. "Goodness, Hunnicutt, don't... what are you doing here?"

"I live here," Hunnicutt says with a grin. "What's got you so jumpy?"

"It's..." He glances down at the envelope from his sister and then back up at Hunnicutt. "Nothing, Hunnicutt, thank you."

"Oh... kay. You really expect me to buy that?"

"Why wouldn't you?"

"Because you're clearly preoccupied."

"I'm- that is I-" Charles stutters. 

"Is this about Hawkeye?" Hunnicutt asks. 

"Why would you think that?"

"Because I know you," Hunnicutt deadpans. "And you've been acting funny around him for weeks. Is everything kosher with you two?"

"Not that it's any of your business, but yes." 

“It’s a small tent,” Hunnicutt reminds him. “I’d say that just about makes it my business.” 

“Everything is perfectly fine, thank you.” Charles takes a deep breath, and rips the envelope open, getting a glimpse of the folded letter within. When he tilts the envelope sideways, the ring slides into his hand. "In fact..."

"Oh-ho, Charles," Hunnicutt says, grinning as he sits down on the cot beside Charles, uninvited. "Is that what I think it is?"

"It is."

"And it's for Hawkeye?"

"Why Hunnicutt, with brains like that, you ought to be a doctor."

Hunnicutt laughs, too pleased to notice the insult. "It's a pretty piece of hardware, Charles, I'll give you that."

"Do you think Pierce will agree?" Charles asks softly, and Hunnicutt gives him a look.

"Charles, he's gonna be _thrilled."_

"There just... there's no set rulebook for this kind of thing. With..."

"With two men, you mean," Hunnicutt says.

"Er. Yes."

"Well don't look at me, Charles, I've never proposed to anyone."

"But..." Charles frowns. "You're married, Hunnicutt."

"Yep."

"You mean...?"

"Peggy proposed to me?" he asks, and grins. "She did."

“Amazing,” Charles says, and means it, but holds up the ring. “Hunnicutt… I don’t mean to be sentimental-”

“I’m sure you won’t be.”

“And it may be foolish-”

“Without question.”

“... But do you really think he’ll like it?”

“Charles, why are you asking me? I’m hardly an expert on your relationship… or Hawk’s taste in jewelry.”

“But you are an expert on… on Hawkeye. You’re his best friend, his closest companion… and mine as well,” he mumbles. 

“Sorry Charles, I didn’t catch that last part. What’d you say?”

“Oh shut up,” Charles tells him.

Hunnicutt just grins, picking up Charles’s pillow and hugging it to his chest. “So when are you gonna ask him?”

“We are supposed to spend this weekend in Tokyo,” Charles says. “I have the whole evening planned.”

“Yeah?” Hunnicutt asks. “Maybe I can help.”

“I don’t... yes, Hunnicutt, of course you can,” Charles says, giving in. 

“Tell me everything. What are your plans?”

“I’ve planned a nice quiet dinner at an intimate restaurant a few blocks off the Ginza,” Charles says, closing his eyes. “And then an evening stroll through the gardens at the hotel…”

“Are you going to ask him there?”

Charles opens his eyes, and gives Hunnicutt a bittersweet smile. “If we’re sufficiently alone.”

Hunnicutt nods. “Right.”

“If not, I suppose I’ll take him upstairs and ask him then.” 

“What are you gonna say when you ask?”

“I shall simply tell him… that I may not know what’ll happen once the war ends, but I do want him by my side.”

“That’s very sweet,” Hunnicutt concedes. “I just have one suggestion.”

“I thought you had never proposed?”

“I haven’t.” He grins. “But as you pointed out, I’m an expert on Hawkeye, so I think you’ll want to hear this.”

“Very well.”

“Tell him you love him. He doesn’t hear it enough.”

“I-”

“I mean in general,” Hunnicutt cuts him off. “Before you explode at me. I’m sure you tell him plenty.”

Charles feels the beginning of a blush creep up his neck, and simply nods wordlessly, before asking, “You don’t think it’s too… simple?”

“I think that what I think doesn’t matter, but I’m telling you Charles, _he’ll_ think it’s perfect.” Hunnicutt reaches over and pats Charles’s hand. “And _that_ is what matters.”

“But will he say yes?”

“If he doesn’t….” Hunnicutt laughs. “Then he’s an idiot, and maybe he doesn’t deserve you. But… for the sake of three people sharing one little tent, I hope he does say yes.”

“That makes two of us.”

Hunnicutt stands back up. “He’ll say yes,” he says reassuringly. “But he can’t if you don’t ask.”

“I will. And thank you… BJ.”

Hunnicutt nods, walking out of the Swamp, and leaving Charles to run his thumb over the letters etched into the ring. 

_He’ll say yes,_ Hunnicutt had said, and Charles hopes to God he’s right.

* * *

With the way things end up, they don’t quite make it to Tokyo. 

Two hours before they’re supposed to depart for Kimpo (and on to Tokyo from there), the wounded start arriving. And it’s fourteen hours before the last patients have been attended to and carried into post-op, another three after that when Charles wakes up with Hawkeye curled into him in their hastily-shoved-together cots.

Hawkeye is breathing softly beside him, fast asleep, and the thought that once all this ends - if Hawkeye says yes - Charles could spend the rest of his life like this, and happily.

The thought of waking up together somewhere permanent, in Boston, or Maine, or the middle of nowhere, it doesn’t matter where, of being together always, it’s enough that he doesn’t mind reality.

Hunnicutt is already awake, sitting in Hawkeye’s chair and holding a cup of coffee. “Morning, Charles.”

“Is it morning?” Hawk mumbles from beside Charles. “Can’t be.”

Charles brushes the hair out of Hawkeye’s eyes, barely resisting the urge to comment on Hawkeye’s resemblance to a newly hatched chick, and turns instead to Hunnicutt, who’s watching both of them.

“Is there any coffee?”

Hunnicutt is already getting to his feet. “I’ll have to run over to the mess tent. Will you two be okay for ten minutes without me?”

“We’ll be counting the seconds,” Hawkeye mumbles from inside his nest of blankets.

Hunnicutt grins. “Don’t count too fast, Hawk. Might miss things that way.”

With a creak of the door, he’s gone, leaving Charles and Hawkeye alone. Hawkeye yawns. “This isn’t Tokyo.”

“Regrettably, no.”

“And to think,” Hawkeye says with a grin, “you were finally gonna get me to try octopus.”

“Someday,” Charles promises. “Though I do wish we _had_ made it to Tokyo.”

“It’s not like there won’t be other trips.”

“Not like the one I had planned for us.” He can’t ignore the way Hawkeye’s eyes light up.

“Yeah?” Hawkeye grins. “What _did_ you have planned… for us?” he says the last part shyly, looking at Charles through his lashes, and it makes Charles’s heart ache.

“Well,” Charles says, cupping Hawkeye’s cheek in his hand, stubble rough under his palm, “There was this lovely little restaurant, very intimate, just off the Ginza, that I very much wanted to take you to.”

“Where you’d have stuffed me with octopus and sake,” Hawkeye says warmly. “And after that?”

Charles is still tracing circles with his thumb over Hawkeye’s cheek, his skin still suffused with the warmth of deep sleep. “Strolling through the garden at the hotel, through the cherry trees. This time of year, the cherry blossoms are in full bloom. I’d have liked to show you.”

“You will,” Hawkeye says, turning his face to press a gentle kiss to Charles’s inner wrist, before smiling at him shyly. “Someday.”

“Someday,” Charles repeats softly, one hand fumbling for the ring safeguarded in his pocket. 

“Any other big plans for Tokyo?” Hawkeye asks. 

“Only one,” Charles says, and takes a deep breath. “And it’s the only one where the location doesn’t matter, as long as you’re here.”

“Oh, it involves me?”

“It is you.”

“Huh?”

And Charles, still stroking a thumb over Hawkeye’s cheek, holds up his ring in the other hand. “I had planned it all out,” he says, “but I couldn’t wait any longer.”

Hawkeye’s eyes widen in surprise as he stares at the ring, looking at Charles and then back to the ring. “Charles?” he asks.

“I know I’m supposed to- to kneel down and everything, but perhaps… this is enough.”

Hawkeye nods wordlessly, eyes fixed on Charles.

“I love you, Hawkeye. And I want you. For as long as you’ll have me.”

Hawkeye grins. “I’ll have you.”

Charles takes Hawkeye’s hand, sliding the ring down his finger, and closing his own hand over it. He leans in to press a gentle kiss to Hawkeye’s forehead, and isn’t expecting it at all when Hawkeye surges up to meet his mouth. Despite Hawkeye’s urgency, the kiss is slow and leisurely, the kiss of two people who have all the time in the world.

Charles pulls away, his forehead resting against Hawkeye’s. “Thank you,” he breathes, and he doesn’t know whether he’s addressing Hawkeye, God or both.

“Thank you,” Hawkeye says, his voice almost inaudible as he looks down at the ring, his tone one of awe, as though he doesn’t quite believe this is happening. “Thank _you.”_

And then Charles is tilting his chin up so Hawkeye meets his eye, leaning in to kiss him again, and again, and again, slow and soft, savouring the feeling of Hawkeye’s mouth on his in a way that makes him profoundly grateful for this quiet intimacy.

“Charles?” Hawkeye asks when he pulls away, his voice low and amused. “Is this your class ring from Harvard?”

“It is.” Charles swallows. “I know it isn’t much, and it’s... hardly a family heirloom.”

“It’s yours,” Hawkeye says simply. “For that alone, I wouldn’t care if it said Bozo’s Clown College on it.”

This startles a laugh out of Charles, and he’s so damn pleased, so overwhelmed with love and happiness and a song that sings pure in his veins, because Hawkeye said _yes_ , said _yes_ to permanence, to spending his life with Charles, forever plus a day if he’ll have him. 

And he will.

The door crashes back open, and there’s Hunnicutt, clutching a tray and grinning down at the two of them. “I brought coffee.”

Hawkeye laughs, and it’s so simple and perfect. “Beej, you never miss a cue.”

“Did I miss anything?” Hunnicutt asks innocently. 

“I’m marrying Charles,” Hawkeye says, and Charles’s heart sings at the way he says it, all pink and proud, like Charles is someone worth staking a claim on.

“Gee,” Hunnicutt says, “and I was only gone five minutes.”

This earns him another cackle from Hawkeye, and this time Charles can’t help but laugh too.

And then Hawkeye looks back at Charles with one of those absurd smiles. “Also,” he says, kissing Charles again. “I love you too. I don’t think I said that.”

“You may not have said it,” Charles replies, “but I heard it.”

Hunnicutt groans. “Are you two gonna be like this for the rest of the war?”

And without hearing Hawkeye’s reply, Charles already knows the answer will be yes.


End file.
